


A Fire, Reignited

by citrinesunset



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21880891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: The strength of Wanda's grief for Pietro leads her to a new world.
Relationships: Peter Maximoff/Wanda Maximoff
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44
Collections: X-Men X-Mas X-Change 2019





	A Fire, Reignited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



> I was inspired by a couple prompts for this: "After the death of Pietro Wanda feels herself drawn to the ATM Earth" and "House of M, using the ATM and MCU, as Wanda wants the world where her brother and parents are alive, and she even has an extra younger sister."
> 
> I decided to go with the premise that Wanda didn't already exist in the Alternate Timeline Movie-verse, which ignores the small implication in the Rogue Cut of Days of Future Past that she does. I feel like it's up for interpretation.

Wanda no longer knew the difference between discovery and creation. She didn't know if her new world existed because she willed it or if she'd been drawn to it in search of something she'd lost.

She no longer knew if it mattered.

* * *

She didn't have a plan. Not at first. Her power thrived on chaos. She was in a dangerous mood where only her heart could guide her, which meant anything could happen. She'd had these moods before, when she thought of her brother and what they'd endured and her despair turned to anger.

If her new allies knew the extent of what she'd lost when Pietro died, they would not have understood. She wouldn't let her love be seen as something shameful, so she buried it deep in her heart, where it burned like a coal.

Her grief electrified her, and cut through reality like a knife. Until now, she'd always pulled back. But she was no longer afraid of her own potential. If she was torn apart by her own power, so be it.

When she opened her eyes, she came face to face with a group of people she’d never seen before. There was a furry blue half-beast man holding some sort of device, a man in a wheelchair, and a young woman with long red hair. The air felt different in a way that perhaps only someone who could control reality might sense.

Then saw him, and she only had enough breath in her lungs for one word.

“Pietro?”

* * *

Later, Hank McCoy explained to her at length and with great pride that he’d detected something he called a temporal and spatial anomaly in the exact spot where she’d manifested. He explained how he’d observed it for days as it grew stronger.

Wanda wasn’t interested in this. She wasn’t a scientist; she was a witch. She knew _why_ she was there, which was the altogether more important point.

She felt...welcomed. To an extent. Peter’s friends were protective of him, and skeptical of her. She could feel Xavier rooting around in her mind, trying to gauge if she was a threat. What he found must have placated him, though when he smiled at her, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

In return, Wanda regarded Peter’s friends cautiously. She wasn’t used to not being the most trusted person in her brother’s life.

The important thing was what Peter thought of her. Upon learning that he had a twin from another universe, he declared the revelation to be "cool."

As soon as she could get him alone without his friends worrying, they walked alone together on the grounds of Xavier's mansion.

“Jean read your mind,” he confessed. “I know--maybe she shouldn’t have, but--”

“Your friends are cautious. I can't blame them.”

“She told me some of what she saw. Nothing personal, just the world you come from. You really have Norse gods who are like, superheroes?”

"Pietro—"

"Yeah, could you not call me that? It's a little weird."

"I'm sorry. _Peter_."

"Anyway, I guess I'm just wondering why you came here."

“I wasn't trying to. Not intentionally. I don’t exist in this world, do I?” She’d known from the way he looked at her when she greeted him. There’d been no recognition, and yet she felt certain that something in his own soul recognized her as his other half. She told herself that this was enough, that she couldn't be too selfish.

“But I exist in yours. What am I like? Am I cool?

“You were magnificent.”

He looked askance at her, and didn’t ask her to elaborate.

“I don’t want to talk about where I come from,” she said. “I want to talk about this world. I want to hear about your life.”

Peter was both like and unlike her Pietro. When she first laid eyes on him, there was no mistaking him. Time hadn’t dulled the memory of her brother.

But it didn’t take long for her to realize that Peter was different. His eyes betrayed the fact that he’d lived an easier life than her Pietro had. He spoke fast and carefree. He went by a different name and came across as surprisingly American. When she hugged him, he even smelled different—like cheap aftershave.

She wondered if it was odd that she wasn’t more disappointed, not to have her brother back exactly as she remembered. But this new reality had promise. Perhaps what she'd wanted, more than anything, was an escape from the one she knew.

And where was she in this universe? Had she been a fetus that didn’t implant? An egg that was never fertilized? Why shouldn’t she take the spot that was rightfully hers?

“I want to hear everything,” she said. “About your life. About your family. About this world."

* * *

Their father was harder to win over. 

She wasn't surprised. Peter's hesitance to introduce her to him said enough. She understood that Peter had only started to forge a relationship with their father very recently, himself. She sensed that Peter was hesitant to introduce a new, volatile element to the dynamic, and she tried not to feel hurt. 

Before she came here, it would have been enough to just have her brother back. But being in this reality was enticing. She’d forgotten what it was like to have a family. Her time with the Avengers had almost reminded her, but now she had a new family. Not just her brother, but a father. A mother and a younger sister, too, though Peter said they wouldn't understand. Not just yet.

When Peter finally introduced her to Erik, Erik scrutinized her in silence before passing judgment.

“I had a daughter. You’re not her.”

She let him walk away. Peter had told her about Magneto's past. She knew his demons; they were remarkably like her own.

She found him later when he was brooding in the mansion's library. She wanted to talk to him alone.

“I’m not her, but maybe I’m here for a reason.” She maneuvered herself in front of him and looked him in the eye. “I know what it’s like to lose people you love. To lose your family. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t do anything to get them back?”

He stared back at her, but he seemed less unyielding.

"Perhaps Peter is willing to accept a so-called relative who appears out of thin air. Why should I? What do you want here?"

"I think I want the same as you."

* * *

Genosha was home. She knew it the moment she set foot on the rocky shore.

Peter still insisted on splitting his time between the island the school. "There's not enough room to run here," he said as they walked on the beach together one evening.

He still wanted to be a part of the X-Men. He didn't say as much, but it was written on his face. It was hard not to be disappointed by that, and wonder why she couldn't be enough for him, but she stopped and remembered her blessings. Besides, one day there would be no need for X-Men anymore. They would make the whole world safe for mutants. They would make the whole world theirs.

At Xavier's, there had been things she didn't dare do or even think about. Her desires weren't safe when they might be misunderstood by telepaths. Now, in the safety of their new home, she wrapped an arm around her brother and rested her head on his shoulder. He held her close, she closed her eyes. It was just like she remembered.

She'd never loved anyone like she loved him. Sometimes she felt like her love was finite, and that he had it all. She'd thought it died with him, but it was just an ember in her heart, ready to reignite.

Still, she had doubts. Peter had different memories. A different life. What if she scared him? Repulsed him?

That night, she crept into his bed. He was only lightly sleeping, and he stirred when she cuddled up to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you want me to go?" In the dark, she couldn't see his expression.

"No. I didn't say that."

She kissed him softly, though in the dark she missed his lips and her kiss landed on his chin. She tried again, and this time she pressed her lips against his. She waited for him to react. He said nothing.

"I'll go if you want me to," she said. "If you want, I'll make it so this didn't happen."

"You and him. You were...." There was surprise in his voice, but no judgment.

"He was my everything. My other half. I loved him. I love _you_." He was silent, and she pressed her forehead against his chest. "In all the ways that matter, you're the same."

Her scalp tickled as his hand brushed against her hair. He hesitated for a moment, and then wrapped his arms around her. One of his hands inched up the back of her shirt and was cool against her bare skin. She shivered, more in delight than cold, as she sank against him.

He was shirtless, and she ran her hands over his skin like she was making a map of his body. Being with him was like going home after years away. There were new scars. Different moles. When they kissed again, his lower lip trembled even as he slipped one of his hands up the front of her shirt to touch her breasts.

"We can't tell anyone about this," he said.

She shook her head. "No. It's between us. Just us."

* * *

Wanda knew the danger of falling prey to desire and illusion. She'd planted images in people's heads of their greatest hopes and worst fears. But she knew what was real: the smell and touch of her brother. The taste of his lips. The feeling of him inside her. The way they fit together like two sides of a coin.

That was the only reality that mattered.


End file.
